The dense mana was flooding out of the depths of the dungeon as we pushed on deeper into the dungeon. It made it nearly impossible to see anything in the ever present mana wash with [All-Seeing Eye]. Everything was drowned in the endless waves of blue, reducing it all to background noise. It was like trying to see shapes in static. Thankfully, there were no monsters to take advantage of my relative blindness while we drew closer to the boss chamber.

  Our tension only grew. We passed through another three chambers with not a single monster within. Only the blank basalt and ice surfaces we had come to expect of the chambers that were not the open snowfields. It was strange; one would expect that there would be more monsters where the mana was denser, not less. Yet that was what we found, over and over. Areas deep within the dungeon, filled with dense mana that should have been ripe for feeding and sustaining more or stronger monsters, were left empty. Then again, dungeons did not follow the rules of sense and logic as humanity knew them, and that was important to remember. We knew precious little about dungeons themselves; we knew more about monsters themselves, but not by much. There were known patterns that we could make educated guesses based upon. For instance, dungeons that were thematically more Asian would likely contain more monsters influenced by Asian myth and lore, but they were almost more like habits than any sort of hard and fast rule. It was one of the reasons Canada ended up being as dangerous as it was, with so many peoples and cultures calling it home, the well of things the dungeons could call on was both wide and deep.

  Fortunately, we didn't need to understand the dungeons in order to be able to clear them; that was surplus to requirements. To clear a dungeon, one only needed to be able to fill one of two requirements: The brute strength to reach the dungeon boss or anchor monster and kill it, or the ability to find and destroy the dimensional anchor. Either solution would solve the problem any given dungeon presented. Understanding was not a requirement. Which was a good thing, if it weren't the case, I imagined that humanity would have long since been wiped out by endless breaches and waves of monsters.

  After we passed through a short twisting corridor at a slow walk, we arrived at what could only be the entrance to the boss chamber. A single look was all that was needed to confirm amongst our group, we decided to take a moment to catch our collective breath. While the others settled in, I turned to face the arch of ice that seemingly marked the entrance to the boss chamber. As a man, it looked much more intimidating, standing over a dozen feet tall. I wasn't quite sure the bulk of my spider body would fit through the triangular arch.

  It was unlike the other chambers; the massive arch of ice shaped almost like a pair of crossed tree trunks seemed intentional, as if it were a signal for what lay past it.

  Only a fool would mistake this for anything but the boss chamber. Beyond it lay a wide icy chamber that could have been mistaken for a cave if it weren't for the walls, the floor and even the ceiling being formed of nothing but pure bluish white ice. The dark basalt stone that had seemed ever present throughout the rest of the dungeon was nowhere in sight in this particular chamber. Through the arch, I could see several pillars of ice that seemed to reach from the floor all the way to the ceiling. I took a step towards the entrance only to be interrupted by Kels' voice from behind me.

  "You're not going in there alone, Kaesor." His voice was gravel and grit, echoing slightly in the empty corridor despite the low tone. I turned back to face the team leader, staring back at him for a moment as if I were judging him and his pronouncement. I took in the state of Kels and his team. They looked ragged and tired. Torn clothing, damaged plates and armour were the norm and not the exception. This wasn't the time to push; I could feel that with the few social graces I had. Though that might be coming sooner than later if Kels refused to back down here. They weren't in a state to be able to take on what came next.

  Hell, I'm a bit wary of it myself. What chance do they have?

  "Shit, Kels." I forced out a laugh—a sound that even I knew was just a mask. "You expect to survive this, in that state? I'd be dragging your bloody corpses out behind me before I hit the halfway mark." I meant it, too. Whatever was waiting past that arch was going to be a step up from everything we'd faced so far. If not, a few steps.

  He squared himself, planting the shield edge-down, taking the stance of a man who would rather die than be left behind, while Signe and Angus fell in behind him, looking ragged and determined in equal measure. The false joviality fell from my face, leaving behind only a flat look. It seemed they were serious.

  "We don't have the time for the three of you to get through another battery of potions, Kels," I stated flatly as the two of us stared each other down. "Go on, check your watch. We have less than an hour until Breach." I said confident in my numbers. The timer had been slowly ticking down in the back of my mind since we started our mad rush to get to where we now stood. We were pushed up against the ragged, bloody edge, and the walls were closing in. Kels remained silent but refused to break eye contact and back down. I let out a sigh before taking a step towards the man.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  "I didn't want to have to point it out like this, Kels, but last I checked, you were under orders to let me do as I please, weren't you?" There it was. That flinch, the tightening around the eyes, the clench of his jaw. I would have preferred not having to bring that up, but so be it. I wouldn't have them marching into the boss chamber just to die. That would be an incredible waste. "Beyond that, do you really think your raggedy ass is going to stop me from going in there with the state you're in?"

  I watched as all three of them deflated. They knew I was right even if they hadn't wanted to admit it. They weren't in any fit state to be facing down the boss of a dungeon like this. Even at their best, and having grown stronger in this dungeon along the way, that would be a tall order. The only one who had a good shot at doing it was me, and then only if I wasn't trying to keep the three of them alive. I couldn't afford that kind of handicap against a boss that was likely to be in the mid to high thirties level wise, given the mana levels in the dungeon, and what we had seen so far.

  I gave them another look, reading the defeat layered atop the exhaustion. For a second, I thought Signe might argue anyway—her chin jutted out, shoulders squared like she was preparing to be shot at dawn—but the fire died as soon as she met my eye. There's a kind of honesty you recognize in people who've stopped pretending: she saw the numbers as clearly as I did. Angus didn't even bother to argue, just shrugged his massive shoulders in defeat. Kels was last to break, the hard lines of his face twitching, then smoothing back into the mask that had probably gotten him through a hundred disasters no one on the outside could imagine.

  He wanted to wait, to take this final challenge on as a team. I could see that, understand it even. There just wasn't time. Despite leading the way and bearing the brunt of the monsters in our several hour long rush to get here, I was still relatively fresh after reaching level thirty. I was certain the boss would be nasty, but it didn't feel outside of my ability to handle. Unlike the three of them, who were underleveled, already tired, and worn to the bone from the effort of reaching this point.

  I stood there, waiting for the fight, the actual fight, and it never came.

  “You don’t get to die in there, Kaesor.” Kels’s voice was flat, raw. “That’s an order. If you do, I’m coming in after you. Come hell or high water.”

  I laughed. "That sounds very you captain, I can respect that, even if you don't get to give me orders." I grinned. I did at times live to be a little shit about things, and this was one of those times. I had no intention of dying here; this was not some noble sacrifice. It might be a last ditch play to win the game, though, that was what made it exciting. I turned to the arch as the others began settling back in to drink their potions and get ready for the outcome, whichever way the dice came up.

  ——-

  I checked myself over as I stepped through the arch. My mana reserves weren't quite full, but they were close enough. The grip of my [Sentinel Root Blade] felt steady in my grip. It was long familiar companion by this point, having been with me since almost the start of the madness my life had become since I woke up in the Soul-Sheer. My actual companion hummed with deep satisfaction and excitement from where she rested in my soul. Vipera was present with her infectious excitement and love for a good fight; she was as ready for this as I was.

  I checked through the rest of my items in rapid order: Vambraces, breastplate, boots, and gloves. They all played a part, even if that part was likely to be coming to an end soon. Nothing had ever explicitly stated it, but it was something I could feel on an instinctual level. Many of my items were limited by what they had been created from, and would soon be running into those limits as I faced stronger and stronger foes. Fortunately, I had the tools to acquire new gear in the form of [Spirit Forge]. That was for another time, however.

  I felt the boss before I saw it. An angry surge of aura and killing intent from above. Without thought, I launched myself into a headlong dive deeper into the icy chamber. I slipped and skidded on the ice as I came to my knees. I twisted around to look back and got my first look at the monster that ruled this dungeon.

  It was enormous, a humanoid wall of snow-white fur and muscle towering over twelve feet tall, a yeti straight out of the nightmares of a Stone Age village, if that yeti traded in just enough human features to leave you with a sick, uncanny revulsion. It hit the ice with a booming impact that sent cracks racing out in all directions. The thing was hunched, knuckles dragging the ground, reminiscent of a massive gorilla, but when it roared and straightened up, pounding on its chest with its fists like an ape, it drove home the comparison.

  What took me off guard wasn't the muscle, the claws, the bone-white tusks jutting from either side of its jaw. It was the eyes. They were small and buried deep under a bony brow, but they burned with miserable, predatory intelligence. My skin crawled, watching it as its massive chest heaved, breaths spilling out white fog in the chill air of the dungeon. It felt strong, stronger than any other monster I'd encountered by a wide margin. There was a solidity and threat to its aura that many others had lacked. The closest comparison I could draw was the frost scale naga. I triggered [Insight Analysis], I needed to know what I was up against because just looking at it, this monster was something nasty.